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Leonardo DiCaprio is regarded as one of the most prolific actors of this generation.Known to be selective with his projects so he would stand out and grab eyes. While some of his projects were blockbusters, he focused on the gold more than the dollar. On DiCaprio 2, J.I.D attempts to command ears everywhere to go for that very prestige.

Since March 2017, J.I.D came into the spotlight with his debut album, The Never Story. Dreamville’s golden child was deemed the next superstar from critical praise. Not wanting to rest on last years laurels, November 26th, also JID’s birthday, we saw the release of this gem. Teaming up with DJ Drama for a Gangsta Grillz project, he continues the legacy many have made in the legendary series. Continuing with the theme from the last project, he starts with “Frequency Change”. Quick little skits that see our main character bored flipping from channel to channel, which could be seen as a foreshadowing of what’s to come from the project. He is showing every side of himself and all the ability he has. He can do every subject good to great and won’t stop till you call it amazing. Drama, wildlife, romance, and news are reflected until it ultimately lands on the action genre with “Slick Talk”. A slow chant of activation that lets him do what he does best: rip the beat. Before listeners get too comfortable, the channel changes again into something straight out of a sci-fi horror special. The ATLien doesn’t loosen his grip on the haunting instrumental till all the life has left it.

Fresh off the slaughter, JID doesn’t stop and continues to murder on “Westbrook”. The beat sounds like a trap jungle and JID is the king destroying everything in his path. A$AP Ferg with his roar of a hook makes you want to chant along with him. Afterward, we get into the two pre-releases from the album starting with “Off Deez” with J. Cole, who might be delivering his best verse of the year and rarely is Cole in this form unless he wants to prove something. It is reminiscent of 2010 and 2011 Cole. These are records that just continue the momentum from the previous tracks. Each bar is worth a rewind and the MC doesn’t let a second waste once he starts. As the first track stated, he activates and shows us the meaning of going off. While the beats are bangers, they aren’t too complex aside from the bass, JID gives the track new life.

And while braggadocio is the main element of “Westbrook” and “Off Deez”, the album takes a quick turn to not only “talk that talk” but to also talk to you. Drugs, addiction, and violence is the message he isn’t trying to shove or force but discuss. Starting off with the second pre-release “151 Rum”, JID is drunk off of the beat that seems to swell with his cadence. It takes 44 seconds into the track for him to get started but once he does, he spews the bars as if he has to get it out of him. He has to expel all the evil he’s seen and has to let everyone know what he just witnessed from the youths around him. After the night of debauchery and sin, the beat for “Off Da Zoinkys” sings the gospel. “I am so grateful” it belts and provides the background for the survivor of last night’s shenanigans to tell their story. JID takes the church podium and proclaims he’s off the hard drugs. As the drums increase, so does his passion and professes he doesn’t want to be the cause of his own or friend’s demise. When the beat reaches its peak, so does he. It’s like the pastor from the church is sweating all over and has his towel in hand because his words have become the holy scripture that is lighting up the hearts of the churchgoers in attendance. The part of the sermon where someone’s grandmother is raising her hand in accordance with the holy word. He isn’t preaching but professing and making his vow to do better: “We almost got into a fight / Like dead-ass fixing to fade em / Maybe I did too much / But I love my n***a I’m gone save em”.

The addict is afraid for what could become of, not only himself but the ones he rode around within Decatur and East Atlanta. He wants to see the success they’re enjoying continuing with all of them still living. You can almost hear a crack in his voice and you can’t help but feel for his loss of life he has already had from it. And yes the rapping performed to tell these stories is done at an impeccable level. It’s the two song stretch that are the brightest lights on the album.

After the sermon, the frequency changes again to relax and turn to smoother beats and flows from the MC. JID lounges and floats on raps to reflect with “Workin Out”. Things may not be going the way he thought after laying down his troubles but its here’s to hoping it plays out nicely until he gets “Tiiied”. He trades in the relaxed flow for melodic sing-raps and blends perfectly blend with R&B guests, 6LACK and Ella Mai. Venting out their frustrations and transgressions until they feel better. It’s certainly a change in musical style but it fits perfectly with the project because, after the intense feelings left from the other tracks, it lets the listener take a well-needed break. To continue the break, we get saxophone induced jazz raps for women on “Skrawberries”. BJ the Chicago Kid provides soulful vocals as JID lets his love for his woman “bury his sins”. From the type of women he likes to his “femi-nem” friends to the ladies he sees go through the “ain’t worth a damn man” phase, it’s all about the lady. It’s done so smoothly that’ll make you want to two-step every time.

After the scent of perfume leaves the room, the ganja smoke replaces it to continue the calm mood with “Hot Box” but the bars aren’t sacrificed for simple weed bars. JID and Joey Bada$$ don’t waste time or flows to be wasted and show their generation has what it takes to stand against the vet, Method Man, as he comes in the room to do what he does best. Body a beat, package up the remains and send it every listener to auditorily witness the mess he just made. He has a standout guest verse next to Cole’s. “Mounted Up” continues the high and lets him get on his horse to rap and play with his flow like it was putty and mess around. After playing, he chooses to tell the street tales of sadness with “Just Da Other Day”. It’s a terrible cycle and it may not seem that but it’s pretty bad. The final note of the album narrative is done with “Despacito Too”. The dark, menacing beat is at it appears and knocks on the best level but what doesn’t get lost in the dark bars he spits. Like channeling the dark feelings from everything that has transpired thus far and putting it into the attitude he uses to rap on the closer. But it’s at the 3: 16-minute mark that the hype flow he goes acapella before he crashes into oblivion. It’s a perfect closer for the project as it leaves you wanting more. There is the bonus track, “Hasta Luego” but truly serves as that it may be a great track but comes more like an encore than actually part of the frequency changes in the album.

This project is one of the best of the year. JID is crafting his legacy and is giving performance after performance to achieve rap supremacy. More than an actor, JID is like the main character in an anime. After a long journey of training and growth, he came back to show what he has learned with new techniques and forms. As the project plays, you hear him growing and getting stronger with each beat. This isn’t the final fight that he has been perfecting his technique for. It’s the prelude. He’s merely showing off what he’s got and it’s the appetizer to something even greater he has coming up his sleeve. The Wolf of Wall Street before The Revenant that lets him get that gold he is showing he is capable of holding. But for the time being, the prelude is damn good and will make you anxious for what is coming next.

DiCaprio 2 can be found here:

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Tyler Jones is Staff Writer with Dead End Hip Hop. You can tweet at him here

Artists who toggle the line of play and precision will seek life-long success. We’ve seen this There are two kinds of rappers in the game: those who soul lacks music, who are here for a good time, not a long time and there are those who will be successful because they stay themselves.

Enter Michael Christmas and his fully-embraced, fun-loving, free spirit. His upbeat personality and his explosive catalog have propelled him into a world of fame with unlimited possibilities. From world tours to a new deal with Fool’s Gold, Michael Christmas has never once strayed away from enjoying the ride.

His latest album, “Role Model”, is a road trip into his past and a reflection of his life as a young adult trying to navigate the wild world painted before him. Nobody spins joy from the awkward quite the way Michael Christmas does, and in “Role Model”, the passenger seat is wide open.

Christmas’s father was in the studio throughout the recording process; the introduction is voiced by two of his younger sisters while vocals from his stepdad, mother, and girlfriend can be heard on skits between songs. The album is a side-step from what he usually delivers, but a sonic evolutionary journey nonetheless. Opposites attract and “Role Model” came together like Voltron. Growing up in the Roxbury neighborhood of Boston ain’t for the weak of heart, but it will morph you into a person with the strength of ten Hulks if you let it. Aside from the amount of tequila he drinks and how often he swims, Michael Christmas is still the same person he was when he emerged onto the scene: moving through life with vivacious spirit but an insatiable desire for knowledge.

Matt Whitlock:How’s the reception for the album is going? I see it every day picking up more and more.

Michael Christmas: Hell yeah, I’m like really, really looking forward to seeing if it opens some doors and shit like that because that’s, you know, that’s what niggas put out albums for. (laughs)

MW:For real, right? Yeah, get the word out. The partnership with Fool’s Gold must be exciting, that’s a lot of leverage right there you know what I mean. You got a crazy cast over there already, you’re in good company.

MC: Well, I’ve been having people come up to me, about that shit, for months now (laughs) like “Yo, I heard you on Fool’s Gold.” People I’ve never seen before in my life. All the time, coming up to me, talking to me and shit “Yo, you on Fool’s Gold?”

MW:You know damn well that’s gonna pick up more and more.

MC: Of course, I’m ready to start working on the next shit already.

MW:I bet you are. I’ve been listening to the album and there’s a lot of growth in there. Especially from “Is This Art” and other projects

MC: Thank you.

MW: It’s personal and you’re the same, but I was listening to [the album] and I did the Car Test the other day with it, sat in the whip and just vibed out to it. There’s a lot of personal shit, but it’s still relatable with ideas I feel other people don’t necessarily talk about.

MC: Yeah, I’m still not on that “Big Ass Rapper Level” yet so, I can still be relatable. I’m on my everyday shit like before you called me, I was cleaning my house.

MW:Facts. That’s what the people flock to; the fake shit only last so long.

MC: Still drunk as shit

MW: What you do last night

MC: My engineer and I were trying two different tequilas.

MW: What were you drinking, which ones? I work at a liquor store part-time.

MC: One of them was called Casa Noble, it’s from Mexico. My mom went there and she bought it for me, for a gift when she came back. He had this trash shit, some ugly shit some silver tequila and we were drinking both, trying to spot the differences and the differences were obvious very vast.

MW: Yeah I can’t drink tequila. I had a party in college and we played, I was like 19 years old, and we played flip cup with tequila. That was a bad choice—tequila. That’s your go-to? Tequila?

MC: Hell no! Cognac is my go-to but I just had that bottle, it was supposed to be special. So I drank half the other day and then last night I was like “I haven’t celebrated with my engineer yet” and we did this album together so I brought that to the studio and we just got smashed. He was very drunk like you don’t know Rob and shit, but he was fuckin’ belligerent drunk. I had a session, I booked an hour and I ended up staying for the next dude’s session.

MW: That’s fuckin’ hilarious. That’s chill though.

MC: It was cool, today, I got up like “Damn, I got to get my shit together.” My girl said her family is coming here today and we smoke all in the house, so you know I was just cleaning up the crib to make sure it doesn’t smell like weed.

MW: Get it all presentable.

MC: And then she just told us they’re probably not even coming inside, so I’m sick right now.

MW:Nah don’t be sick, yo, the best is chilling and sitting on the couch in a clean ass house and lighting up, just chillin’ in a clean ass house there’s no better feeling than that. There really isn’t, like everything smells mad good (laughs)

MC: Yeah no bullshit, because once my house is clean, I’m doing the same thing I do every time. I’m just walking around the house, smiling, looking at everything.

MW:So, a couple of favorites off the album, definitely “These Days” and “Everybody Eat” with (Cousin) Stizz, what’s your favorite if you had to pick?

MC: My favorites, well my favorite if I had to pick, probably “Upset” is my number one favorite joint. Then “Not For Me” and “Growing up” both make me really happy too. I teared up at the end of “Not For Me”. One time I was listening to it before it came out with the guitar solo at the end. It was the like day after we laid that down. It was my homie who works at Bodega. I was listening to it, while playing 2K and I just started tearing up when I heard the fucking guitar solo like “Yo, this guitar solo is so good!”

MW:That was beautiful.

MC: The thing is, it took him so long to do it because he kept trying over and over and over. Trying different shit and I was like “Yo, play this next one like you won’t get to play it again. Play it like we’re at a show and if you fuck this up, you just fucked up the show.” That’s when he played the one that we kept, so everything came together so tight, it was like a movie.

MW: He just needed that little bit of push.

MC: Yeah literally, halfway through, he would stop like “We got to clean that up” and I’m like “No, we’re not cleaning shit up.”

MW: I’ve noticed that, especially with live music players, in studios, they’re even more particular than artists or producers are with something that you may not even hear, that they hear.

MC: Exactly. There’s another track that you had, and I can’t think of the name of it off top, but it was about one of your teachers. They gave a speech about how it was for you growing up and you said he was talking to you about how you came home and you thought everyone’s family was like your family. Oh yeah, yeah, that was “Growing Up”.

MW: Yup

MC: So what happened was, this girl said her parents were going to pick her up from school and I was confused by that because both of my parents never do anything together. They didn’t live together so I assumed, I was confused, I was like “Your parents live together? Parents don’t live together” that’s what I said.

MW: What age was this?

MC: That was in kindergarten or the first grade.

MW:Oh, yeah, you were just confused.

MC: Yeah I was so little, I was just like, “What The Fuck”, I wasn’t sad or anything. I never dreamed of having my parents be together because they were never together. There was no like “Oh, I want my dad and my mom back together” or nothing like that. Yeah, it’s just two grown-up n****s that I call every day

MW: Listening to that, it was tough to listen to, not tough but you could feel it. The song had already hit you. So when that speech came on, it was already a beautiful song but my arm hairs started to stand up a little bit. It was like, anytime someone you know, or a teacher is talking about an encounter with a child it’s always going to draw some type of emotion. When it’s something that has to do with family, it fit beautifully.

MC: It’s wild because since I started dating my girl, I’ve learned more about how people grow up and shit. She grew up and had the perfect school career and was a good kid. Her mom was a great mom and her mom was older. You know, my mom was young and dad was young. My family is all over the place (laughs). We’ve been all over the place, so I’ve learned that I grew up very different from a lot of people. I went to like seven different schools, mad shit. So, recently, I’ve become proud of some of these, I wouldn’t call them setbacks but I call them differences. I’m just different and these differences are what made me this way.

MW: Exactly and now you’re realizing it at a perfect time in your life, where it fits the music that you’ve already been making.

MC: Yup, we had a party the other day for the album and my mom and my dad were in there, fucked up with me. My mom was clutching the champagne bottle all night and I’m like “Nobody’s parents are doing this.” Nobody’s parents were turnt up like mine and it’s funny because all my life, all the other kids always said they wish their parents were like my parents.

MW: It’s funny to think about how you were confused about all that and now, it’s like the dynamic that they had when they were not together, kind of made you, well it made them, more of your homies than traditional parents. So now looking back, people are like “Damn I wish my parents were like that” when most parents were traditional family parents, so you wouldn’t think of it that way.

MC: Yes exactly, it’s more from my dad really because my mom was pretty strict when I was a kid. She was on my ass daily, yelling a lot. Now that I’m grown, and I could take care of myself, she comes to me when she needs to talk. I’m like the only adult that’s not connected to the rest of the adults in her life like that. So, I have my own outside perspective.

MW:So she can appreciate that.

MC: Whenever she needs to talk to somebody, she immediately comes to me and I’m like “Whatever you need”. You know my mom is the homie now but it wasn’t always like that. With my dad, it was always like that. [My dad and I] bet that my mom wouldn’t show up to the party, even though I knew she was coming. She doesn’t usually come, she doesn’t usually go to shit because she doesn’t like being out with all the young people. So I called her the day before the party like “You know you got to come” and she was like “Alright.” So she pulled up with her homegirl and we were in there getting folded. One of my roommates is a huge fan of my mom, she wants to be like my mom when she gets older, and they were getting drunk together, it was funny as hell.

MW: So you mentioned Bodega a little while ago. Everybody knows there’s a relationship with you and Bodega there, can you give a little info on what Bodega is to you and how it influenced your career as an artist, as an individual aside from music…?

MC: Well, Bodega, more than anything, is a place that when I was always down there. I just wanted to shop there. Everybody in there was dressed so cool and anybody who was coming in there was buying fly shit. I always wanted to be able to do that but I couldn’t. Then I really wanted to get a job there when I was like 16 or 17 and they wouldn’t hire me but I was still coming all the time, with my friends. At one point, we got in trouble there so much that we weren’t supposed to go there anymore. Fast forward, we’re in town, we start doing our rap shit, it’s working and we’re cooperating.

We’re not fucking the store up (laughs). Now, it’s a hub for us to go get kicks, we buy shit and we know everybody that works there. There’s no reason not to kick it there and it’s kind of a central location because of where it’s at in the city and when you go there you can get anywhere from there. Whenever I need to kill time, I just go kick it at Bodega, chop it up with them, buy some shit, they always hold me down with the kicks. I just got them off-white ones, we went there the other day, you know what I’m saying. They’re just the homies, but more than anything else, I don’t feel like any other stores here really hold a candle to them. As far as what they do with the streetwear, selling kicks, the style of the actual store itself, everything about Bodega. I think it’s just better than all the other streetwear shops in the city, that’s really what it is.

Yeah, they do a lot of cool shit, they throw the homies little fuckin’ modeling gigs, every once in a while. A bunch of my homies, who didn’t even have a job, like, I’ll go there and they’ll be there working now and I’m like “Oh shit, you work here now?” They always support me, for the most part, when I go in there. They always know what’s up when I put out albums, they held them down, they carried my merch in there for a little bit when I had my hats, so it’s just the spot.

MW: For real, I don’t want to keep you on the phone all night, so the last question: what’s something the average fan might not know about you? Something they might not be able to find in another interview?

MC: Oh alright, I’m really good at swimming, like I’m nice.

MW: At swimming? Like you can do the high dive and all that?

MC: Nah, I can dive but I never dive off like the big ass platform, but I can dive. I was trained in all of this shit. I went camping for like four years straight and ended up being a junior lifeguard, so I’m nice at swimming.

MW: Wow, so did you compete or anything? If you were a lifeguard, you had to be pretty serious.

MC: No, every day there were two forms of swimming. They had an instructional swim [course]. If you were good, you used to do drills the whole time, and that’s what I was doing by like my second session. Then you have a free swim [lesson], everybody kickin’ it or whatever but during an instructional swim [course], they’d have us doing shit because we were 12 foot [deep]. They would throw this, like, black brick at the bottom of the pool and they would do shit like you’d have to dive to the bottom of the pool and get the brick and swim up to the top but you can’t kick off the floor.

MW: Damn, that’s intense.

MC: Yeah, drills like that, doing like five or six laps down the whole length of the pool, I should be shredded. (laughs)

MW: (Laughing) Are you still swimming?

MC: I don’t have a place to swim. The last time I was swimming, was me and my DJ, did a show in Michigan and the hotel had a pool that was open all night. There was a basketball court right next to the pool, so we hooped for like 2 hours and then we went swimming for like 2 hours. That was like the last time I got to swim, but I realized I still got it.

Role Model can be streamed below:

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Matt Whitlock manages a liquor store and listens to Rap music. He also enjoys short blunt walks to the refrigerator, watching movies with the sound off, and just plain chillin’. You can tweet at him here

I don’t trust white people. I have lived long enough to know that feeling any empathy for them can and will kill me. The stakes are high for Black folks in America and I don’t have time to waste. Hip-hop works in similar extremes, with little grace and generalizations that serve its own survival. Hip-hop works to find ways to reinvent itself all the time; whether it be Gogo music, mumble rap, or random subcultures, Hip-hop has always meant varying things to Black people—all made at the expense of needing to find joy and a voice out of the muck of this world. Hip-hop at its core is about Black culture and the ability to subvert the systems that work to try to kill us.

Yet, it would be naive to think Hip-hop doesn’t exist in a world of labor exploitation. A world ready to make any song, person or trend cultural capital for the next ad agency, all the bite pulled out with the bones barely hanging on.

I read The Tanning of America by Steve Stoute when I was 16 years old. At the time, I thought I wanted to do the same thing as Stoute. I wanted to break glass ceilings and get into those boardrooms that made the big decisions. It took 4 years and some life experience to realize Stoute was wrong; that Hip-hop is, in fact, Black in every way possible and is an act of resistance in its primal state. However, it is still, in many ways, a good ol’ boys club. I began to realize that Hip-Hop throughout history wasn’t growing to hold more ideas of blackness but that it was simply becoming a beacon of capitalism that I never knew to fear.

Via Youtube

It feels like blackface in action to see a white person rap and be given more praise than the people who put bone to concrete to build this thing we call hip-hop culture. How did they learn to speak our language? To steal a thing we kept hidden? To have successfully stolen our tongue and I have to bob along to the music. Not because I want to but because I could be killed for questioning why the white person is even allowed in the room…most times by the black men in the room. Rap is a sport—a sport that favors those in power; one where I have to write about how we should give Macklemore another chance while black queer artists are still ignored regardless of their talent. It is a balancing act, to be in the culture but also on the chopping block.

I can never really tell if white artists care about the culture or are simply good at avoiding questions. And If I’m being honest that’s what it feels like…a convenient costume that can be altered to make it in this industry. Where they can be on a Coachella stage one year and then next defacing the thing that put the silver in their mouths. Normally it takes an EP or at least a solid project until I can buy into the idea/notion that a white artist isn’t repeating the legacy of colonization that has plagued black and brown folks for centuries. But most times my cynicism stops me from giving most a second chance because I know the culture will praise them regardless of my opinion.

That white boys with grills in their mouth, humble beginnings and enough lyrical talent to make it to the stage are praised for doing the bare minimum. A bare minimum that gets lower day by day. White supremacy shows up in how little grace we give to women in rap to fail, it’s about who we let in the door and most times it is never black queer artists. We can see it in how whiteness is centered even when it isn’t in the room. It shows up when you try to pitch to publications about black queer rappers but editors only want to hear about Lil Dicky’s latest single with Chris Brown.

It is exhausting but I can’t run away from it.

Capitalism and White supremacy are big words but they show up in similar ways. Capitalism tells us we can only work with what makes the most money and that thing is always whatever is closest to whiteness or has the most cultural capital. Capitalism is always looking to silence those of us who have no choice but to have to write the thing anyways. Who have bills to pay and not enough clout to say no. There is no space in hip-hop to question white rappers, to ask why they are here? To ask why they can spit 16 bars on Hot 97 but can’t speak on their own privilege? To take and never give back? To critique why we feel awkward questioning the racial elephant in the room that we didn’t create?

That’s the joke of it all, that black folks have ownership of anything, that even the black folks running the culture are also selling us down the river. The world tells black folks that we have to be accommodating. That we have to let white folks get a piece of the pie even if we never asked them to join in. White supremacy looks like white men running hip-hop critique, looks like only using black writers when it allows the most clickbait but never a staff position, it looks like black women in rap supporting abusers in order to stay relevant, it’s a 17-year-old black rapper falling for the lie of upward mobility while sitting in an empty mansion.

via Gazette Review

It’s all a joke really if you think about it, a system set up for us to fail, a tragedy in many parts, white women becoming hip-hop influencers as they step on the backs of black women, realizing most of the best rappers in history have all abused the women in their lives.

It’s hard when you realize the culture you love will never love you back.

It’s all a joke I never get to laugh at.

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Clarissa Brooks is a Staff Writer with Dead End Hip-Hop. You can tweet at her here

When I began writing editorials two years ago, I never conceived that one day I would become Managing Editor of any major platform. I still see myself as a super fan of hip-hop. Even now, I’ll message rappers on the side to gush about how much I love their work. I never want to lose that wide-eyed wonder this music gives me. I believe there is a unique magic in emerging rappers. There is immense potential ahead, to be profoundly successful and shape a generation, and there is profound odds stacked up against an artist.

That is why I wanted to make this playlist, because I wanted others to experience my wide-eyed wonder. The following are tracks we pulled out from a hefty pile of artists who submitted on Twitter. Thank you again to Jake for helping with this amazing selection and we hope you enjoy.

“Nu3ra Ness pronounced (New Era Ness) is a rising Virginia Hip-Hop artist with a determination to separate himself from his peers. Nu3ra has been working to create a foundation for himself based off meaningful lyrics, raw emotion, and a connection with his loyal fan base”.

“Cincinnati native, Chicago resident. Pete Sayke‘s sound is one of homegrown soul. After releasing his solo project, The New Black, in 2010, Pete partnered with emcee Mike Schpitz to form the duo Grumpy Old Men. a group that was invited to perform at Atlanta’s A3C Hip Hop Festival and was also “Broken” on Shade45’s Wake Up Show in 2013″

AissaSpades is fun, flirty, irreverent, but also still carries that sweet nectar of pain that comes a black women singing her truth. I simply couldn’t see this playlist being possible without her sound.

I.S. Jones is a writer living in New York by way of California. Send pizza not nudes. She is the new Managing Editor of Dead End Hip Hop & it’s been a ride so far. She misses the warmth dearly. You can tweet at her here

Jake Milgate a.k.a. MILFENCE is a hip-hop writer and enthusiast from Rochester, New York

Carson based artist Flxtch! has emerged out the woodworks with a new EP called Spare Change. After releasing two singles, Park and Slackers (with visuals), Flxtch! has decided to hone his skills and release the project named Spare Change, featuring self produced records and features from different artists in the LA area such as Nate Park. Alongside the release of Spare Change, Flxtch! has also decided to put out the visuals for his record Motivation featuring Nate Park from Spare Change.

It’s interesting to see how the internet has caused the way that artists put out music. The introduction of creating multiple different kinds of media has allowed artists to pursue different ventures to produce a good experience for their listeners. In this case, Compl3x has blessed our ears with releasing this single, I Am Art from his upcoming project Phoenix. In a couple of days, we will also be able to see the short film he made to accompany the release of his project. Check out the trailer to his project and his single out below. Shoutout to the Mickey Factz feature as well! MOUSE!